


Afterparty

by Silver33650



Series: Tarnished Ghosts and Polished Shadows [14]
Category: Fortnite (Video Game)
Genre: Fire, Gen, Major Character Revival, Murder, Pyromania, Revenge, Video Game Mechanics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:21:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27815260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silver33650/pseuds/Silver33650
Summary: The best way to create chaos when a rift appears over the island? Revive your enemy, set him up with revenge, and sit back and relax.
Series: Tarnished Ghosts and Polished Shadows [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1923190
Kudos: 5





	Afterparty

Lapped by the waves of the expanse of ocean surrounding the island, a lonely golden reboot card sat unattended, invisible to any who passed. What was not invisible was the oil spill that made a whirlpool around it, jetting forth a curious man in a gas mask. Chaos Agent landed neatly on a piece of debris and picked up the card with amusement. Even with no audience, it did enjoy making an entrance. 

But where to slot this particular reboot card? Not Sweaty Sands, where Skye could see... The Authority, in full view of Jules? No... not yet, not yet. The Fortilla? No no, too obvious, and too far out of the way besides. Salty Springs would be suitable, but its van was still underwater. It tapped tapped tapped its mask with the golden card, then snapped its fingers. 

It would have to wait, but it would be worth it.

* * *

Honk honk, went the reboot van at Coral Castle, and Chaos Agent was pleased that it was a distinctly different noise than the sound of the battle bus. And there he was: falling off the top of the van and collapsing at its feet. The golden ghost. 

_Chomp chomp, little ghost,_ Chaos Agent murmured, pulling him upright. _You have a lot to do, remember?_

"Who are you?" Midas asked, his voice hoarse. 

_Never mind me. I'm more concerned about you, little ghost. You have a lot to do, remember?_

For a brief moment, there was a splash of confidence on his face, but it washed away quickly. "No."

_Well then, let me tell you a story._

* * *

Midas hadn't quite lied; he did remember a little bit. Mostly the dying part. Everything still sort of hurt. His back, prickling from unseen teeth. His hands, coated in gold. His head, dazed and foggy. He wished the strange man in the golden gas mask would help him, but he seemed more interested in his storytelling. 

"Once upon a time, there was a man who tried to stop the storm."

 _Storm_. The word incensed him, somehow. 

"But the storm would not be stopped, and formed a tidal wave that struck down the man's home and washed away all his hopes and dreams."

He did remember water. A lot of it. And a sinking feeling, of drowning but not actually being underwater. 

"The man was exiled, and floated along until a shark came by. Chomp chomp, went the shark, and swallowed the man! But the man had nothing to fear, because he was trapped in a place where death held no sway. Instead there were worse fates, and he would dole them out to his enemies all across the island and beyond." The strange man tilted his head and tapped his strange fingers together. "What do you think? Did I get it right?"

Midas had no idea. But the last bit of the story struck a chord with him. _Worse fates. Enemies._

Revenge. 

"Yes," Midas said, staring at the pistol in his hand. "I believe you did."

* * *

He looked back at the castle when he reached the top of the hill. It was beautiful. He could still hear, faintly, the coral's song. There was another song, once. One that was only an echo in the back of his mind now. 

It buzzed as he found the remnants of the plane. A crash site. He stared for a long time at the symbol he found on some of the parts. A circle enclosing a storm. It tingled something at the back of his mind. Something important. 

_Chomp chomp, little ghost._

He dug through the wreckage, but anything useful was long gone. Now there were only chests and ammo boxes. He didn't bother opening them; he had his pistol, and the nice man in the gas mask had given him more than enough bullets. Midas wished he had gotten the man's name. He wished he had a classy white and gold outfit too. He could almost picture himself wearing such attire.

He spotted fireflies in a group near the trees. With an old jar from the debris, he captured each one. This felt familiar... like he had done this with someone long ago. But that feeling faded as soon as he realized there were no more to collect. He headed toward the shore, where there was a shark, and his vision went red. 

He had to reload several times, but he had enough ammo from the nice man in the gas mask, and eventually, the shark met its end, leaving behind a pile of loot. 

It was all gray pistols. 

It was hardly satisfying. He didn't feel much better at all. He looked back at the wreckage, at the symbol on the pieces. Then he realized that it was in another place as well: a flag on the horizon, flying proudly above a ramshackle boat. He headed towards it. 

* * *

In the hammock atop the boat was a sleeping girl. Peaceful, deep asleep, likely dreaming. Even the hat was asleep, its little eyes in pleasant semicircles. And he realized, with a start, that he knew this girl. _Skye._

Bits came back. Pieces he had to assemble. Skye- the adventurer, loyal to the end and, it appeared, beyond. TNTina and her explosions, her bow, her rig. Brutus, walking the thin line between trusted and traitor. Meowscles, his faithful cat. Maya, off forging her own path. And one more...

He looked over the waves. Past the lighthouse, beyond where he could see. But he pictured it, in his mind. The _Marigold._

"All will be well, Skye," he muttered. "But first I have some things to take care of."

He jumped in the motorboat without a thought for whether Skye would notice its disappearance.

* * *

"Can you check in on the Yacht?"

It was the last mission Agent Peely ever accepted from Midas, because when he reached the Yacht, he found a new boss. 

Not that there was any kind of structure among the group there. It was just one big party, which suited Peely just fine. He danced with Deadpool, he danced with the henchmen. All beneath the disco ball in the hand of his masked former boss, all upon the lighted floor amid the smoke machines. They stayed up late and ate chimichangas and drank. Then they stayed up late because their stomachs hurt. Occasionally there was puke. But for the most part, there was partying. 

Even when the flood came, and the henchmen all left in fear, Peely and Deadpool's partying couldn't be stopped. They did lay low, though, drifting past Craggy Cliffs and ending up near the lighthouse. Hiding whenever they heard footsteps, turning the music down but not silencing it. Sometimes, they took a motorboat and went out for supplies, and every so often would get attacked by a mechanical silver owl. So they made do with what they had, continuing their partying in a much more subdued manner.

And then one day, while it was Peely's job to watch the Yacht while Deadpool did the supply run, the music cut off. 

* * *

Midas crouched on the roof of the Yacht and watched Agent Peely investigate. Silently following, waiting for just the right moment to reveal himself. But they were taking quite a while, being far too thorough, and Midas sighed. It seemed he would have to do a bit of haunting after all. 

So he took out ceilings, knocked things over. Chased him all the way to the bow of the ship, then firing at the chopper when he was about to get inside. Only then did Midas let Peely see him, as he fired a more shots to finish destroying the chopper. And it was very satisfying. 

* * *

"What's wrong, agent?" Midas reloaded his pistol with an innocent expression. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Bosses coming back from the dead was not in the handbook Peely remembered. But then again, he hadn't read it very closely. He looked around, hoping to spot a better weapon, but there was none. 

Midas laughed. "I had a simple request. All you had to do was check in on my cat. The rest of my agents were capable of finishing their tasks. But not you." He stretched his left hand to aim the pistol, and the barrel hovered there for a few moments. Then he dropped his hand and laughed, pressing his forehead into his palm. "I'm not going to shoot you, Peely."

Peely breathed a sigh of relief, but then Midas continued, running his fingers through his hair. "That would be too easy. There are so much better ways to kill on the island now. For example, I could set you on fire, but I don't believe roasted bananas are very tasty." This did very little to reassure Peely, as he was very aware that there were other ways to prepare bananas that were, in fact, quite tasty. 

So he was a bit confused when Midas took out a fishing rod instead, casting the line over Peely's head. The line jerked, and Midas went flying over him, splashing down in the water behind the jaws of a very angry shark. Peely ran, unable to hear the quip that Midas was shouting over the roar of the waves, but he could not run far or fast enough. 

* * *

Midas stood alone in the ruined Yacht, watching the shark until it vanished from sight. Then he pulled out the fireflies he had collected near the crash site. Watched them flit in the jar, flickering alight at random. He almost didn't want to let them out. But he did. 

The strange man had been right, Midas reflected, watching the Yacht burn. Revenge was what he was here for. 

* * *

The coral buddy was impatient. It hummed in its ear, indignant, from its perch on Chaos Agent's shoulder. Chaos Agent gave it a quick pat. 

_Don't worry, little one. He'll be back._

The coral thrummed with suspicion. Chaos Agent laughed. 

_I promised, didn't I? A castle needs a king, and a king you shall have._

* * *

Midas walked to the center of the map, because he was tired of getting his clothes wet and because he needed more fireflies. He collected them as he walked until his arms were full as he reached the lakeshore. There was now something large and ugly where his Agency used to be. It was surrounded by a large wall, well defended. But things were changing on the island, and walls were meant to be torn down. Or, as the case would be, burned to the ground- er, water line. 

He started on the north side and moved around the wall clockwise, casually flinging fireflies into every room he passed, grinning at the shouts from the henchmen as they tried to put it out. They were not very effective. The wall was still on fire by the time he completed the circuit, although someone new had appeared at the front of the building, shouting directions while a silver owl perched on her shoulder. 

Midas had been about to throw one last jar, but lowered his arm at the sight of her. The woman spotted him shortly after. Across the charred stone of the burning Authority, the eyes of the siblings met, for the first time in months. 

He regarded her with confusion when she called his name. Then it came back to him. "Jules!" he cried. "Hate what you've done with the place. But I suppose that was to be expected."

"What are you doing?"

"Settling the score. I'm sorry to say that you've lost this round. Although I'm always accepting recruits." He held out his hand. "Come with me, Jules. I have plans, and I want you to help."

She didn't move. "I read your letters."

He frowned. "What let- oh." His confusion morphed into laughter. "You can forget about those. They didn't mean anything."

"Not to me."

"Sentimentality clouds judgment. One of the rules I never taught you." He looked up at the sky. "Apologies, but it's high time I left. I'm a very busy man, as I'm sure you're aware."

"Wait," she said, but he was already throwing the last firefly jar at his feet and dashing along the wall through the flames. She ran too, chasing him from below, using her glider gun to reach the top of the wall, but he was already on the zipline, slicing it with the dagger from his pack when he was halfway across and falling into the lake below. She hesitated; she couldn't just leave the henchmen to deal with the blaze, and he knew it. He swam to the river and got caught in the current, waving as it swept him away. 

* * *

Weeping Woods was a quiet place, perfect for plotting. And even more perfect, it was full of fireflies. He replenished his stock and wandered until he left the woods and reached the road to the west, where he was able to see the sky again. And there, to the southwest, there were spotlights. Someone wanted to be found. 

Midas was all too happy to investigate, and was pleasantly surprised when he spotted the same symbol from Skye's boat hanging over the entrance. _Ghost_. He swam around the outside, growing more annoyed by the minute. What were they doing out here? Skye's little boat was one thing, but this? He was so angry that he nearly didn't notice the shark, and then it became the only thing on his mind. Firing again and again until it was a pile of loot. Nothing interesting, again. 

Not like the young woman with the brightly painted helmet who'd found him trying to use her cabbages to heal. Clearly the leader of this outpost, judging by her vest. "What are you doing here?" she asked, and there were so, so many ways for him to answer that question. So he kept it simple, and called his agents, and waited, and tried not to wonder if Jules would come too. 

* * *

The wall was ruined, to Jules' dismay. Even the parts that were still standing were hazardous; better to demolish them than worry about the impending structural failure. She'd called Chaos Agent dozens of times, but he'd ignored every one. And now, he had the audacity to call _her_. 

"Hello, Jules. Did you enjoy seeing your brother?"

"Why didn't you help me?"

"I think it's high time we vaulted the higher rarities of pistols, don't you think?" It sounded like he turned a page in a book. "Especially the gold ones."

"I quit."

"Now, now. Let's not be hasty," he said. "Someone's about to set up shop just to the east who needs your help. He's a bit like your brother in that he won't think he needs help, but it's in his best interest to accept it."

"What do you even want?"

He laughed. "I'm just like your brother, Jules. I want you to be happy, because a happy engineer means a well-defended Zero Point, and it's in everyone's best interest for that to be the case, yes?"

"What do you want with the Zero Point?"

There was a long period of laughter on the other end. "Oh, Jules," he said. "Go see your brother. He needs all the help he can get."

"How do you know where he went?"

He tutted. "He's a ghost, Jules. Where else would he go?" He chuckled. "And if you don't want to go there, then just come back to the Authority in a few months. I have something special planned for Halloween."

**Author's Note:**

> this is the most ridiculous thing I've ever written that's meant to be taken (mostly) seriously


End file.
